


Harrafra's Throne - Dawn of the Dragon

by BlueGuardian



Series: Harrafra's Throne [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Culture, Alien Technology, Aliens, Alternate Earth, Amnesia, Angels, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Demons, Dragon Riders, Dragons, Dwarves, Elves, Fantasy, First Kiss, Gay Character, Halflings, I'm Bad At Tagging, LGBTQ Character, Multi, My First AO3 Post, Not Beta Read, Original Character-centric, Original Mythology, Original Songs, Original Species, Original Universe, Romance, Temporary Amnesia, Violence, inspired by many books
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:49:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23250484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueGuardian/pseuds/BlueGuardian
Summary: When a mysterious, maybe even inhuman girl collapses in her shop and faints, Akita, a princess who has been in hiding for most of her life, is forced to call upon the dragonriders, who are, up until that moment, not officially back, and also in hiding. The lord of the Keep, Finnegan, is then forced to prepare his forces for a war that he thought would come a few centuries later, catching everyone by surprise.(I know I'm crap at desciptions but please give this work a try, desciption is to be edited)
Series: Harrafra's Throne [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671712
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Harrafra's Throne - Dawn of the Dragon

It was a rather snowy mid-winter afternoon in the small city of Havelen. Pretty much every mid-minter day in Havelen was snowy. And basically most mid-fall and mid-spring days, too. There was usually a lot of snow in the city, regardless of the season, seeing as it was in very northern region. Well, anyway, let's not stray too far from the story here. Our story starts in a small watchmaker's workshop, run by a seemingly young woman by the name of Akita L. Wyrmcoal. The name may seem a tad bit odd for a human, but it had to be said that Akita merely _looked_ human. In truth, she was a Derrhian. Now, what exactly a Derrhian is, is a rather long story. It is, perhaps, easier if it is simply stated that their _true_ form resembles an anthropomorphic dragon, although most of her kind stayed in human form outside of Derrha. Akita, whose birth name had not been spoken by any but one in the last few centuries, had been hiding in Havelen for the past few years, as the bustling city was on neutral ground. 

Well, _anyway_ , let's get on with it then.

The workshop was quiet except for the sounds that Akita produced while tinkering with her newest job. Her short, pale blue hair was sticking up into all possible directions and had drops of black, clumpy oil stuck between strands. Her delicate fingers worked quickly and finicky on the watch she was to fix. A client had brought over an old family heirloom that was almost completely broken. It looked like someone had dropped it on the street and it got run over by a bike. Poor thing. Her work was interrupted by the bell above the door, signalizing that a customer had entered. She carefully put the watch down and made her way to the front of the shop, appearing behind the wooden counter with a polite smile. “Welcome to Wyrmcoal's Watches, what can I help you with?”. Her bright, cyan blue eyes with pupils like that of a dragon mustered the new customer on the other side of the counter with curiosity. Before her stood a young woman with hair like oaken bark and eyes that held the colour of moss mixed with earth on the floor of a forest. She was a delicate, shy little thing, by the looks of it. But as soon as said delicate woman opened her thin, pink lips to speak, she collapsed on the mahogany counter, clutching her chest through a light brown tartan jacket. Once more she opened her slim mouth and even spoke this time, with a voice that was strained and dripping with pain, yet at the same time she was desperately trying to stay calm and collected: “Ah, hello there. My name's Ellie. At least I'm pretty sure it is. Oh, I'm about to faint, I'm afraid, terribly sorry.”. And just as she had predicted, she did, in fact, faint. Akita tilted her head in mild confusion. Well, mild was probably an understatement, after all, something like this did not happen every day, not even to her. A conflict started within her. You see, she had exactly two options here: The must _human_ option would be to bring the girl to a healer, that however, would raise questions she was not to eager to answer. She did have to stay covered, after all. She held out her hand and produced a small, blue flame in her hand. The flame danced around the room and got darker and darker, until it was as black as the night. Slowly, it took the shape of a crow, which swiftly landed on her outstretched arm. “Rascal”, she started, swapping tongues as she continued, “Frarrthes tr Drafreyrsvarden, querr! Trarrz Finnegan!”. The crow cawed once before it spread it's wings and took of, phasing right through the wall, just like a ghost, leaving Akita alone with the now unconscious girl

-

“Tell me, if you would, what am I looking at here?”, the man asked, running a hand through his long, silver hair. “Believe me, Karak-ruin”, she starts with a sigh, mirroring his actions, “I would not have called upon you if I knew, for I know you are busy.”. They stand in silence before Finnegan suddenly nods. He takes a few steps closer towards the cushioned bench on which the girl is laying. Carefully, he placed two pale fingers on her forehead. His dark green eyes closed as a look of intense focus washed over his soft features. “She seems uninjured, but... Her mind! It is blank! There is nothing left inside of her. Someone took her memories.”, he explained, his voice distracted. Suddenly, pain flashed over his face, his eyes shot open and he stumbled backwards against the wall. “Finnegan? Are you alright? What happened?”, Akita inquirers worriedly, rushing to his side to help him get up. “I- “, he breaks of, a rare tremor in his usually calm and steady voice. He takes a few deep breaths before he starts again, “Whatever happened to her, it... _sealed_ her. The real her. I can feel her trying to break out of her cage. Her- her DNA has been critically altered. She is not, cannot be, human, and yet, she is. She was forced to become something she was never meant to be. I cannot begin to imagine how painful it must have been. Oh, I- I have to help her, I need- It must have been _them_! _They_ are the only ones who can- Oh no. Oh no no no! This is bad, this is really really, immensely bad and-”

“Finnegan!”, Akita interrupted him loudly, grabbing his previously flailing arm. She had never seen the traveller in such a state, and she had to admit, it chilled her to the bone. Finnegan was the calmest being she had ever known. “Huh?”, he stutters eloquently, looking at her with a frantic, scared gaze. “You were rambling. “, the Derrhian explains, her gaze soft with concern. “I will take care of this. Of her. You must go back to Drafreyrsvarden. The time of the riders has come. They must return _now.”_. Finnegan sighs loudly, having calmed from his fit as fast and sudden as he broke into it. “They are not ready.”, he argues, earning a stern, yet understanding glance from his younger friend. “They are not ready,”, he repeats, “But I will prepare them. We shall open the gates of the Keep to all, and make our return public. But word does indeed travel fast. We will have more enemies than allies by the end of winter.”. He pauses again and placed his hands on Akita's shoulders. “But I shall do as you command, for I will follow your lead, your highness. “. Said 'highness' sighed. “Is that Basil guy rubbing off on ya? You've certainly become more dramatic. But you are as right as you are dramatic, my friend.”. She took a step back, freeing herself of the hands on her shoulders. A sigh escapes her lips as she looks up at the dragonrider. “Good luck, my friend. Meanwhile I shall take in our mystery child here, and I will travel to the Keep with her as soon as it is safe and she is stable. If she agrees on staying with me, of course.”. Finnegan, still a little shaken from the girl's soul, whose pain he had felt as if it was his own, suddenly and surprisingly pulls the smaller humanoid into a strong and yet soft embrace, his wavy hair tickling her neck as it fell down upon their shoulders like a curtain of pure silver. “Take care, Harrafra, for these are dangerous times to be in hiding.”, he pulls away and steps back, bowing, “Farewell, your highness, and don't let _them_ get to you just yet.”. With those parting words still hanging heavily in the air, he turns and exits then shop quickly, not looking back. The moment he sets foot outside the workshop, he pulls the hood of his dark green cloak over his head, letting his eyes roam the streets of the city one last time before heading for the nearby gates, fleeing quietly towards the forest, where his dragon, Silbane, waits for him. Along the fields, he cannot help but let his thoughts roam along with his eyes, yet not in the same direction of yellow fields of buttercups, but instead of what lies ahead, and all that lies behind him. Rays of orange sunlight danced across the tops of the sturdy, ancient oaks, peppering them in the glow of the setting sun. Silbane had waited for him there, amidst the trees. They had agreed that it would be safer for the large, green dragon to hide in the woods, the 'cursed' woods, as the villagers, who never dared to go near it, said. The rider greets his dragon wordlessly, still too lost in thought. Silbane turns his head in concern, stretching his large, dark green wings, causing them to brush against the trees softly. “What did she say?”, he asked, lowering his head as his rider stopped in front of him. Finnegan sighed, laying a hand on the soft scales of the beasts muzzle. “I believe, old friend, that it has begun.”, is all he spoke before retreating his hand and walking around his companions head to carefully climb into the hand-crafted saddle resting on Silbane's back. Rider and dragon often had a connection deep enough to need no words, and so the winged reptile understood perfectly that his rider had no use for words at the moment. He presses his wings against his sides and breaks out into a sprint, past the last trees marking the edge of the woods. Once he reached the fields he spreads his wings and takes off with the grace of an elven dancer. Once they settle in between the clouds, Silbane's scales glowing in the light of the setting sun and the tips of his wings disappearing within the white, cottony fluffs of clouds, Finnegan allows himself to finally relax. This is were he feels at home, so close to the stars, so close to his home. He knew he could never return there, of course. He had responsibility as the Keepslord. And besides, he thinks with a subconscious shrug, his kind would chop his head off were he to return to them. He and Wrathdrim had been the only ones to have escaped Vertharm after the lockdown, and earth was now his only refuge. 

“Do not dwell on it, Finnegan. Your home is down here.”, the dragon speaks, sensing his riders thoughts and ripping Finnegan back to reality. It doesn't last long, however, as the aliens thoughts drift back to the words a befriended sorceress had once spoken to him. An ancient prophecy spoken from one survivor to another in the aftermath of the last great dragon war. He had not understood a single thing back then, on the battlefield, ridden by anger and grief, but now? Now things had changed. A thousand years had passed since then, and he knew now. Finally, he understood.

“A girl will be found, Finnegan, Lord of the Keep, a girl with stars dancing in her eyes. The forgotten children shall reunite and Wrath shall rise from the ruins of man. And then, in the throws of the war her arrival foretells, it all shall be revealed. Forgotten and abandoned, the children will come together and together they shall free Wrath once more. Only with Wrath by your side shall you win.”

**Author's Note:**

> Derrhain translations:
> 
> Frarrthes tr Drafreyrsvarden, querr! Trarrz Finnegan! - Fly to Drafreyrsvarden, quick! Get Finnegan!  
> Karak-ruin: Dearest friend


End file.
